Inconspicuous
by Orli
Summary: Remy 'disappears'. Rogue's left standing alone. John fills his place. For now. During and Post X2. John, Remy, Bobby, et al. Romy and Ryro.
1. Prologue Whisper

Titles: Inconspicuous

Summary: X2 fic, AU, during and after attack. Ryro and Romy. Rogue's not with Bobby. Jean can be "dead" if you want her to be. She's not in this story anyway. John stayed with the x-men. Everything else is the same.

Disclaimer: Marvel and Fox own things that I don't. I don't own K-Swiss. Tatiana L.. owns the poem.

A/N: Thanks Tatiana and bunny angel for the beta. Thanks Radha, Jo-Anne and ramblingsofcrazywomen for your help on chapter one. Please review. Archive is welcome—tell me where, so I can link to it. orlimutie.net or ebonylinkinpark.com. Edited by B. Angel (who wanted contractions).

Prologue.

Schemes of colors  
Rays of light  
Broken prisms thrust before my eyes  
To be shown in all its splendor  
In it's deceptive portrayal  
Of what is simply white  
Yet surrounded by emptiness  
Surrounded by darkness  
That clings to every pore  
And drowns me within  
Pools of olive and cerulean spheres  
Taunting me  
Imploring me   
To reach further into the fantasy  
To bury who I am  
To deceive my body and soul  
And acquiesce my failing grasp  
Until the laughter,   
The amusement that lies hidden  
Consumes me whole  
And leaves me to drift  
Endlessly and hopelessly  
Into the arms of deception  
Where those who may reach me  
Those who I hold dear  
Are simply a mirage   
Or a fruitless advocate of freedom  
That will be erased and replaced  
Until I accept this world  
And in doubts of its existence  
desire it to be real.

Tatiana L. (MiraiXenia18)

There is always silence. The is the sound of nothing pouring into your ears like a pitcher of water. The sound of nothing exerting the pressure of the deep sea against your eardrums. The silence makes it presence known, _felt_ through the agony of the sound of nothing deafening you. You become lost in the sound of nothing carrying you through this void, this opaque abyss, this hole you have descended into, left ignorant of the whys and whens of what is happening to you. You are wondering what is this place? When did you get sucked in here? How did you not know it was happening? _Why_ is it happening? You try ask yourself these questions, but you cannot because your thoughts are trapped, locked away in a penitentiary in your head and the key is lost to you, leaving you nothing but a haze of emotions as you float helplessly into the middle of a sea of perplexity and anxiety.

You try to see through the ocean of black, but it is too deep. You are looking feet into feet of darkness, thinking all the time you are getting closer and closer to the end; but this void, it goes on and on into eternity, and now it is pulling you in deeper and deeper until you are no longer floating steadily, but you are spinning, reeling out of control. Any rationality you would have left within you has been engulfed by the panic and trepidation now striving to grasp at your body; although you do not even know if your body exists. In a desperate attempt to escape you squeeze your eyes shut, but the darkness follows and greets you on the other side, slipping through as your eyes close from one void to another. Its way of telling you it is in control and always will be. You would be crying, and maybe you are, but you are too numb to know. You wonder if this is death, or if you are heading there.

You have been rendered senseless: no hearing, no sight, no taste, no smell, no touch. You are grasping at nothing, like you would gasp for air after you have nearly drowned, but there is nothing there; there is nothing. You wonder when this is going to end, if it will not, and if you have truly discovered the concept of infinity. And then suddenly, and your senses slam into your body like a brick. You have woken up. You shudder violently as it all flows back. The sun blinding your eyes as it filters through the window, so bright it burns at your cornea; the sound of your life pounding stridently in your ears, like the sound of an amplified drumbeat, deafening you; the bed beneath you, clenched tightly in your hands; the mattress giving at your fingernails; the heat radiating off your body; the tears drying on your face; your lungs ready to burst as you release the stale air you have been holding hostage; the taste of your own mouth; the taste of the air being sucked down; the smell of it rushing through your nostrils as you breathe deeply as if for the first time…

And you cannot stop trembling.

Prologue.


	2. I Evanescence

A/N: Tell me if you want me to e-mail you with updates. Or go to my site and join the mailing list (mutie.net / orli - under fanfiction). Thanks Tatiana/MiraiXania18, roguefan1309 and evilwhiteraven for the reviews. Here's an update for you. Tell me what ya think. It'll help me write faster.

I. Evanescence

_"You know a guy named Remy?"_

-----

"Remy?! What?" She stared at the refrigerator as the door slowly closed by itself, her grip loosening around her glass of water. Rogue gave the room a quick glance again, looking left, then right. She could have sworn she had heard him just behind her opening the refrigerator. There was no way he could have moved that fast, especially without her hearing him. He was quick, but… it was not possible, not for him anyway. And he had just been talking to her, she had just responded to one of his jest. He had been right behind her!

She removed her hand completely from her cup and wiped her damp hand on her pajama bottoms, trying to think it over. Was he playing a game? Was he hiding from her? She smiled, not exactly sure if she was amused or not. Were they not a little old for this? She turned to face the refrigerator. He had been standing there only two, three seconds before. She knew it was ridiculous, but she opened the refrigerator and looked anyway. Nothing but food and drinks? What had she expected? To find him crammed on one of the shelves? She rolled her eyes and pushed the door closed, then turned to her left. The pantry door was open… Had it not been closed before? A frown on her face, she moved quietly towards it. Two steps into the movement, she already knew he was not there, yet she continued until she had reached it. The only way he would have been able to hide in here was if the door had been shut upon him. She walked around the other side of the island where her cup of water sat, bent down to look under the tables quickly.

"_Seriously_, Remy," she proclaimed as she stood up and straighten her posture, annoyance starting to wrap its tendrils around her. This was ridiculous. Why would he just disappear like that? Maybe, he had just left the room entirely. She took up her glass and drank, watching out of the corner of her eye. When no one appeared, she shook her head. _Why_ he would do that, she had no idea. Why he would not announce his departure, she could not tell either. That he would just leave her like that, kind of made her angry, except… It was not possible that he could have left without so much as a sound and without her sensing it! She would have at least seen the movement from the corner of her eye!

A chill took her spine unexpectedly, and she placed the cup down near the sink, wanting to believe the feeling had come from the ice water, and ignoring the peculiar feeling that had accompanied the chill. Deciding against staying to see if he would come back, she started to leave. She moved slowly, taking one last look around the dimly lit kitchen and headed for the exit, her pace quickening as the floor seemingly began to feel colder, almost burning, under her uncovered feet. She almost expected Bobby to be coming around the corner at any moment. But he didn't. Her eyebrows furrowed in perplexity, and she could feel a twinge of unease taint her body.

"_What_ just happened?" Rogue asked herself quietly as she walked down the even darker hallway. Making her way past the lounge, she saw there was no light from the television illuminating the walkway and realized that on her way down here with Remy that she had not noticed that Jones had not been sitting on the couch. She listened. She thought she could hear something behind her. Was Remy playing games with her? She narrowed her eyes angrily. He had to be joking, right? Did the swamp rat not care or realize that by doing this he placed his life at her mercy? She swore if he jumped out at her, she would show none. She would turn her mutation on, and he would still feel _and_ regret this. She slowed her pace and listened closely. It sounded like… ragged breathing. She glanced over her shoulder quickly, trying to make it seem nonchalant. Then stopping to turn completely, she peered into the dark. It looked like there was some sort of figure in the dark. Was that someone in a wheelchair? The Professor? Why would he be down here so late? She squinted, examining the space ahead of her, and saw nothing. There was nothing there, but the empty hall. She turned around, shaking her head. This was idiotic. She was acting on her fear, she knew that, but she ran the rest of the way anyway.

-----

She knocked on his door again, no longer trying to be quiet. He still was not answering. He could have been sleeping. That could have been why he had left in the first place—he was tired. The more she thought about the excuses she was making for him, the more she realized how they did not fit his character. Sure, she had not known him for that long, one month, but she knew him well enough.

She thought about it while she waited. She was absent minded sometimes. Maybe she had gone downstairs alone. Maybe he had never asked her to join him. Never tried to convince her they would not be breaking any rules. "What're we gon get in trouble f'r anyway? Bein' thirsty? And dat's if we get caught in de first place, petite," he had asked, an annoying, overconfident smirk on his face. Maybe she had gone by herself to the kitchen, the whole time actually _wishing_ he had been there. Pretending, imagining that it was all happening, and then somehow suddenly got brought back to reality. No, she thought. She _knew_ she was not like that. She knew she was not crazy!

"Remy! Open the door!" She yelled to no avail, not caring if she was disturbing any students. If they were light sleepers, then it was nothing she could help. She got nothing. "I cannot believe you!" Still nothing. She kicked his door vehemently and walked back to her room, slamming the door behind her and not caring if it woke up her roommate, Jubilee. He had better have an excuse for her tomorrow. That was, _if_ she decided she even wanted to talk to him.

-----

The next day, she went to Bobby and John's room, glaring down the hall towards Remy's room, kicked the door once for a knock and walked in. "Remy's an a-"

John was sitting on his bed, soaking wet, the only towel at hand draped over his head as he dried his hair. Rogue's brows furrowed, and she shut her mouth. Well, so much for talking about Remy. John had not looked up when she came in. He was probably was okay with the present situation, unlike her. She did not want to see things like this. He and Bobby were supposed to lock the door when she or others were not supposed to come in. She signed, turned her back to him and closed the door. John never did care for the rules. Not that anyone usually came bursting through closed doors as she had… except her. She turned her head slowly to peek over her shoulder before she caught herself and turned back around, a little embarrassed. She could hear the shower running, which meant that Bobby must have been taking his turn. If it had been Bobby on the bed, he would have freaked. Actually, he would have had _two_ towels.

"Hey, Rogue. I'm going outside to get some fresh air. Wanna come?" John looked up, having finished toweling his hair. She raised an eyebrow and turned around to see that he had stood up and wrapped the towel around his waist. This—his lack of clothes—was nothing to him. She nodded, still uncomfortable being around him dressed in only a towel, despite his ease about it.

"Fifteen minutes?" He looked at her questioningly, completely ignoring her signs of discomfort. She answered with a 'yeah' and rushed out the room. Rogue knew Johnny well, too well sometimes, and he assumed that she was as comfortable with his nudity as he was himself. He assumed she could ignore those types of things like she was another guy. She wondered how and if another guy could actually ignore _that_. She was grateful Bobby was a little more conservative around her at least.

She walked downstairs where the mansion was at its liveliest on a Saturday and looked around, inconspicuously at first, for Remy. She had woken up kind of late. He might already be down here. She did a three-sixty but saw him nowhere. But there were Jubes and Kitty, standing nearby. She walked towards them, hoping that they would enlighten her a little.

"You seen Remy?" She asked Jubilee, having thrown out the idea of pretending she did not know who he was. Jubilee greeted Rogue with a smile before her brow furrowed with puzzlement. She thought for a second before answering.

"What's that? A movie?" She asked as the noise of the students swarmed around them. Rogue raised an eyebrow, a little confused, a little surprised. Had she just asked what a Remy was? She smiled.

"What? No, the guy that lives here. Remy." Jubilee shook her head, still confused. Still not recognizing the name. She stuck a hand in her back pocket and shrugged, still running the name through her memory. Did not even sound familiar. She turned and pulled Kitty by the shoulder away from another student she had been talking to. Kitty turned towards Jubilee surprised and furrowed her brows, somewhat annoyed.

"You know a guy named Remy?" Jubilee asked her. Kitty's face contorted with expressions similar to those of Jubilee. Rogue looked upon them both with bewilderment. What was wrong with them? This was the guy they had been crushing over since he had arrived here a month ago. His arrival, along with Nightcrawler's three months ago, had been the appeasement to all of the students' constant worrying about another attack on the mansion like the one Stryker had staged three months ago.

"No. Why? Is he new?" Kitty asked curiously. Rogue opened her mouth and closed it again. What? She narrowed her eyes. _What_? Was this a game, too? Was this a game of Remy's planning? Another joke? Ha, ha, not funny. Especially not after last night, which he still needed to apologize for. How was just disappearing like this considered funny anyway? He had not even tried to scare her afterwards. Maybe he would make his appearance now. Rogue glared around the room quickly, glancing over both her shoulders. Nowhere was he in sight.

"Where is he?" She demanded, annoyed, speaking more to herself than them. She did not give them a chance to answer before she stormed away, searching for him through the thin crowd. Was she going to have to explain to the swamp rat that his jokes were getting less and less funny? And was she going to have to explain to Kitty and Jubilee that just because he had a pretty face it did not mean that they had to follow along with his stunts? _Especially_ the stupid ones. Chances were he was hiding somewhere in here or outside rather than in his room. She would check outside later when she went with Johnny. She checked around a corner then headed towards the kitchen. Theresa and Jamie were both there with some others. No Remy.

"Hey…" she greeted them, feeling stupid about what she was about to ask them. Maybe if she played along with the little game, they would give her hints. This was so childish. "You know a guy named Remy?" Or maybe they would look upon her with confusion at why they _would_ _not_ know who Remy was?

Again, confusion. She also received the same responses she had gotten from Jubilee and Kitty. She blinked. Wow. He was good. He actually managed to get this many people to follow along with his game. She nodded and left, wondering how many other people were in on this.

"You know a guy named Remy?" She asked random people as she made her way back to the main hall. She received the same answers, the same looks, the same confusion. But now she was getting pissed. Well, if he wanted to play it that way… John had come downstairs, fully dressed and ready, waiting for her. She stared at him and decided she really did not want to find Remy right now anyway.

-----

John lay on his back, his hands behind his head, and Rogue was on her stomach beside him, her head resting in her hands, elbows in the grass.

"Much love to my shoes. K-Swiss®™©," John sang nonchalantly. She looked at him with a questioning smirk on her face at his sporadic tune. He sounded like he was in a good mood. She mused as to the reason as she rolled over and sat up, crossing her legs. She leaned forward, rested her elbows near her knees, placed her fists under her head and let her hair fall in front of her face, partially blocking John from her view.

"Rogue, can I tell you about my date last night?" he asked, smiling, watching her. So that was why he was in such a good mood. She nodded and smiled back, not minding at all. She liked listening to him talk. If she paid attention, or if he was angry, she could hear his Australian accent. She remembered him and Bobby talking about a date from before. She had not paid much attention. With her and Remy spending more and more time together, she had not really cared, but she did remember that John was gone last night. He started talking about how he gone last night on a blind date with a girl Bobby knew through Piotr, who knew her through some other connection at the mansion.

"They let you go off campus at night?" She asked confused at how he could have been allowed off campus during the night un-chaperoned, especially since the rules and security had been beefed up after Stryker's attack on the mansion.

"I got back before curfew," he offered. "Barely."

"Oh," She responded, thinking that she and Remy could have gone somewhere together other than the game room, lounge, kitchen and their rooms. Had John gotten back before they had gone to the kitchen last night? Probably. She did not remember what time they had gone down there, but she knew it had been later than curfew. John continued about his date, and she started thinking about how it was possible that everyone she had asked had no idea who Remy was. There was just something so strange about this. The peculiar feeling from last night had faded but still lingered in the back of her mind. She knew he could not have convinced that many people. Maybe… she had fabricated some kind of fake character—maybe she had some kind of mental disease, like schizophrenia or maybe it was some kind of side affect of her mutation. She searched, but could not find a probable explanation.

"You know a guy named Remy?" She asked John quietly, looking up through her hair almost meekly and suddenly nervous fearing what his answer would be. What if he answered like the rest of them—his expression turning pensive as he tried to dig out some memory of recognition of the name she had just mentioned? Her thoughts swam back to the notion that maybe they really were all joking with her. She bit the inside of her cheek and stared at him, hoping because he had the decency and maturity to not be playing along with them in their little prank that instead his countenance would contort with confusion at her asking such an irrelevant question.

"No," he answered dispassionately and continued talking as if she had never spoken. She felt her insides drop and a dull aching pain formed in the hollow pit of her stomach as disappointment and anger started to rush over her. How was this seriously happening? How could Remy have just evanesced from existence on the memory of everyone over night? She blinked back the wetness that had begun forming her eyes and could feel her jaw clench in exasperation. How could this have happened? _What _was happening?

"It was like having _Stuart Little_ shoved in my ear…. She wouldn't shut up, and when she did it was only when she ran out of things to talk about. So we'd be sitting there quietly for about twenty minutes, and I'd be arguing on whether I should say something or keep my mouth shut and avoid another episode of –" She did not want to sit here any longer and listen to him talk about how bad his date with this girl had gone. He hated his date. What more was there to talk about? She stared at him through narrowed eyes, droning his voice out and watching as he continued narrating about his date whilst he stared upwards into the sky, the expressions changing and dancing across over his face, and the resentment mounting inside her. He turned to her with a grin on his face and made some vulgar comment about how her chest had almost made up for her lack of intellect. Rogue rolled her eyes and turned away from him, glaring out into the distance, watching some other kids playing basketball, one cheating and using his powers. Was this world full of liars and cheaters or something? She turned, looking away from both John and the students, farther out where the grass looked like it spread for acres till it met up with the towering hedge. She tried clamping her teeth together as hard as she could in an attempt to allay her anger, but only succeeded in making her teeth feel as if they would crack in any second and propelling more tears forward and adding pathetic to the list of adjectives explaining how she was feeling.

"Rogue?" John asked softly, worry in his voice and in his face as she turned to look at him. Remy could not have just ceased to exist, and she could not have just been dreaming him up. They had talked. They had touched. She knew he had been real. John reached out, and she looked down to see him take her wrist in his hand.

"This isn't funny," she stated, her voicing unexpectedly straining out over a sob, causing her to take in an uneven intake of air. He moved his hand from her wrist up her forearm as he pushed himself up with the other arm. She took it as a chance to push him back down and yank her arm free from his grip before she stood up, pushing herself up with now weak arms and began to walk away on weaker legs. The goal was to start running, but she was already struggling with seeing where she was going on the account of the tears she could not push back fast enough.

"Rogue! What are you talking about? Where are you going?" John yelled out from behind her having, from the distance of his voice, already stood up and started following her. She ignored him and wiped her eyes as quickly as she could while she ran back towards the mansion, wanting to get away from the lies, him and his date.

When she ran through the mansion entrance, she closed the door behind her, quickly turning to look out the window behind her to see that he had stopped running after her and was standing out in the courtyard looking confused. She rolled her eyes and turned around. At least he knew to leave her alone. As she started down the hall, she walked into Logan leaving the kitchen.

"Hey, you okay?" he greeted her having already caught the scent of tears and anger, a coke situated in his hand, the top popped off. She stayed quiet, contemplating whether to ask him about Remy or not. Logan would not take part in this little game of everyone's. He was an adult, lacking that kind of childish immaturity. He would not lie to her. He would sense the gravity of her body language and scent, and he would tell her every kind of truth there was about what had happened to Remy, she thought. She mumbled out that she was fine. He nodded, knowing she would come to him if it were serious, and started to walk away around her to the lounge, taking a drink from the coke in his hand.

"Logan-Logan…?" She started in a whisper, raising her voice as she called his name a second time. He stopped and let out a 'yeah', his voice deep as usual in its guttural kind of way. She turned her head and looked into the kitchen where Remy and she had talked only last night and swallowed as she furrowed her brow still contemplating her next question. She looked at him and knew she had to ask him. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"You know a guy named Remy?" She asked him quietly, an anxious expression on her face that she had failed to hold back, her heart racing in anticipation of his answer. He stared at her for a second, no sign of his hearing her registering on his face, then took a swing from his soda and answered.

"No," and started walking around her again into the lounge. "Why?"

"…No-no reason," she answered.

-----

She lay in her bed, her face pressed into her damp pillow, sealing the air out. Logan was not lying. Remy could not have gotten Logan to go along with any of his tricks for anything. She had held on to the notion that this whole situation was a joke, but she knew it was not anymore. She pressed her face harder into the pillow, hoping that somehow the suffocation could magically help make things clearer, push Remy out of her head as if he was a dream because he _had_ to be a dream. She had to have been dreaming of him. Logan, John, the _entire_ school. They would not have all lied to her. He could not exist.

But she remembered. She remembered first seeing him…

_Tearing at the grass, uprooting individual pieces of Xavier's probably rare, expensive and imported grass and carefully shredding each one into the thinnest slices, she attempted to try to ignore Bobby and John, who were sitting above her on the bench, holding an idiotic conversation._

_"So I'm asking," John said, his hair slicked back from his face as usual, lighter in his hand, the normal undertone of arrogance in his voice, "what would be worse, to be burned to death or frozen?"_

…She remembered everything as it had gone. When she had first seen him…

_She had rolled her eyes at their ensuing boy-drama and pushed a strand of snow-colored hair out of her face before looking up just as the door to the mansion opened. Someone she did not recognize walked out and looked around inquisitively._

_"Then," Bobby had continued, explaining to them how freezing to death went, "the moisture in your lungs starts to freeze, so that even breathing is painful."_

_"This conversation is painful," she had mumbled. She decided to ignore them both and turned back to the mansion curiously to investigate the figure she had seen before. He had not gone very far and was standing near the fountain watching the students. Her first instinct would have been to think Scott. He was wearing glasses, ruby tinted for all she could tell, but his hair, his clothes and his stature negated the notion. His hair had a far more auburn tint to it than Scott's did. It was longer, not combed nearly as neatly, partially covering his ears and probably coming down to his check bones in the front but stopping no farther than his hairline in the back. He was wearing a long brown overcoat and was shuffling something in his hands. She squinted her eyes trying to get a better focus on his face, but the glasses and his hair only blocked her attempt. She did notice a stick or staff of some sort sticking from the bottom of his jacket. She turned back to Bobby, who was still giving his informative little report on death by ice._

_"Hey, is he new?" She had asked, breaking into Bobby and John's little argument, pointing him out, "In the overcoat with the hair and the glasses."_

_"Oh yeah, the guy with the hair," John said with jocular sarcasm. Bobby stared for a moment, narrowing his eyes trying to make out who the person was. He had been slowly circling the fountain, watching the students in what seemed like amazement and wonderment or maybe just confusion. She would not have even noticed the various students demonstrating their powers anymore. She wondered if this guy was even a mutant or if he was just some visitor taking a look around the zoo. They had not gotten any visitors since Stryker's attack on the mansion two months ago, much less any new students. It looked like he was heading back inside; he had started walking back towards the door._

_"Yeah, I think he is. I've never seen him before," he answered. "Looks like a student."_

_"It's been awhile since we had one of those," John commented, glancing at Rogue and then Bobby._

_"Finally," she had stated almost inattentively and smiled," … someone who can replace the two of you."_

_"Right," John commented sardonically, suddenly snapping his hand closed, extinguishing his flame he had harbored there. "You wouldn't last a day without us, Roguey."_

… How could those memories be wrong? Fake? She was freaking crazy. She had to be or everyone else had to be. And she knew the answer to that. Or maybe since she knew something was wrong, maybe since she was not oblivious to what was happening, she was not crazy yet. Maybe she was stopping it by realizing it, by not denying it. She knew the Professor could help her with this, but something held her back. Something stronger than her own will told her she did not want to bring this to him. Like a whisper in her mind, it told her she did not want to become their test subject again. She did not want it to turn into something bigger than she wanted to handle. It was better than having Magneto's personality resurface in her mind after she had worked so hard to lock it away, she thought. She needed to find Bobby.

-----

She staggered down the hall, using the wall as a guide as she turned the corner to get to Bobby's room. As she neared it, she thought about the possibility of John being there, stopped against the wall next to the door and sighed. He probably thought she was crazy, and she did not feel like explaining to him why she had run off before. She actually did not want to talk _at all_, but she did not want to be alone in her room again.

Yet, she still did not want to face John. She moved closer to the door to see if she could maybe hear if he was there. She heard nothing for a moment, and then muffled voices traveled through the door. Both Bobby's and John's. She bit the inside of her cheek, wondering what she should do next. Go back to her room? Go try someone else? Jubilee and Kitty were out of the choices. They were down stairs with everyone else, and she was not going back down there to explain why she needed their company. She stared down the hall. She did not think she would ever go back to Remy's room, if it had even been his room. What if someone else had lived there this entire time? Would that prove that she was crazy?

She averted her eyes angrily and moved closer to the door, turning to slide her hands against it lightly and wondering what she would hear of their conversation if she listened from outside. Would Bobby or John care if they caught her? Then again, that was the catch: if she got caught. So, she would not. She would listen for a while, and if it sounded like something she was not supposed to be hearing, she would stop listening. She hesitated, thinking about it for a second. Should she actually violate their privacy like that? Yeah, sounded like a plan. Bobby and John should not have any secrets that she did not know about anyway. She pressed her head down against the door between her hands. When she could only hear a few phrases, she pressed her head harder and her ear closer against the door for full access.

"…understand…She was crying…talking about…she doesn't even know her…now she's angry…my date…didn't even like her anyway…more your type…never again," John's voice spoke, the door still only allowing her to hear a limited amount of their conversation. He sounded frustrated, and she knew he was venting to Bobby about what had happened outside. From what she could hear, she knew it. She waited for Bobby's reply.

"...don't know…didn't tell me anything…naked…bed…K-Swiss®™©…Stuart Little…maybe…likes you…something?…_your_ type." She pushed herself from the door, her arms moving at light speed at what she had just thought she heard. It sounded like Bobby had just proposed the idea that she liked John, not Remy, who to everyone but her did not exist, but _John_. The idea was incestuous. That would be like her dating Bobby, or Bobby dating John, or... uh, something like that. Her thoughts were cut of by the ceasing of the talking, and she realized she had maybe pushed too hard against the door, making a sound. She closed her mouth, bringing up her lower jaw, and moved hastily to the side away from the door just as it opened and John walked out in front of the doorway. He turned the other way, looking for who had knocked on their door. She was moving before her decision had even been consciously made, bumping into John as she slipped into the room through the space he had left open, and then closed the door, pushing him completely out from behind.

"Hey! What's-" She heard him exclaim as she closed the door on him and he tried to stop it, but only too late. She slammed the door shut with all her weight and locked it behind her, apologizing to him in her head. She shook her head, and turned to offer Bobby a weary sigh. He was sitting up in his bed, staring at her, eyes reflecting his shock. He raised an eyebrow curiously. At least he had clothes on.

"Hi," She greeted him as John banged at the door and yelled to be let back in. There was the Australian accent she loved so much. "Don't let him in, please. He'll go away soon. Bobby, I need you."

She would have needed John, too, if it had not been for the incident outside in the courtyard. She walked dismally towards him, kicking her shoes off next to the nightstand between their beds resignedly, and with a sigh fell next to him on her stomach onto his bed. He looked back at the door, the pure confusion still on his face as he contemplated over which friend he was supposed to help. She looked liked she had been crying. John's yelling and pounding were dying down. He knew John would understand when Bobby explained it to him later. Bobby lay back down on his back next to her. He knew he should probably keep silent. She wrapped an arm through his and turned her head the other way, not facing him. She had thought she had cried all she could before in her room, but she found herself wrong.

I. Evanescence


	3. II Haunted

A/N: Thanks Tatiana and Bunny Angel for being co-plotters when I was stuck, and for Chiang with pre-planning and that awesome quote. Thanks all for the reviews. Say Happy (belated (24th)) Birthday if you want your ryro and romy. I promise Remy and other weird things will be explained. I'm so afraid I'll get Remy wrong. Will take help/advice/beta of multiple Remy fanatics. This story's going to come out slow, as you and I can both tell, even though I already have each chapter planned out. I'm just slow. So add me to your author alert list or join my mailing list or visit my site whenever you want to know if my story's alive. I will finish it, that much I can guarantee. With that said, you warned and chapter three still not done, here's chapter two. Review please. I'd really appreciate it and I could use it for inspiration, which I am lacking as of now.

II. Haunted

_"If you think he's real, then he's real."_

-----

_A weary moan escaped Rogue's throat, fatigue clouded her senses, and her sight was hazy as if a mist had enshrouded her. She was vaguely aware of her body, yet she could not move nor did she have the strength to. Her thoughts trudged around lethargically in her mind making concentrating felt like hiking uphill in deep mud. She was too tired to even try to focus on any of them. But she could sense there was someone else. Thoughts or no thoughts, she could feel him in the back of her mind. Her eyes were widely out of focus, making any comprehension of the shadows and silhouettes before her impossible. She tried concentrating on bringing the image before her into focus, and slowly, almost unrealistically, the shadows transformed into a figure before her. She could barely make it out as human, the features significantly veiled from her eyes. Another moan escape her lips as she fought against heavy eyelids, and she glared into the shadows before her. She judged him to be sitting. She could not make out whom he was, but she could feel uneasiness in the back of her mind, an innate feeling of apprehension from being near whoever it was. She could not speak, for she could feel herself slipping quickly into unconsciousness. She could hear nothing. It was as if she were in a pool, her ears surrounded by silent waters._

_Except now there was a sound pushing through, delaying her departure. A voice from her right, coming from an owner somewhere she could not see, distant as if it had traveled thousands of miles, silent but slowly becoming clearer, making waves. The same voice, calling out repeatedly. A jumble of syllables, filtered by the water, until finally they swam to her ears where they were finally deciphered. Coming from a voice as jaded as she was, "…Chére."_

Rogue opened her eyes, jolted from her sleep, the shadows and silhouettes of her dream fading from her mind only to reveal the darkness that surrounded her. The voice was becoming distant again as it faded to a whisper in her mind. That was the last thing she needed: to be dreaming of Remy. He did not exist, she reminded herself. Even if it was only his voice, she did not need to be reminded of him. She did not _want_ to be reminded of him. She wanted him to fade away, slip from her mind like the dream. She hoped it did not become one of those reoccurring dreams that took forever to go away. But the blurry figure in her dream lingered in the front of her mind. It had not been Remy, yet he had seemed familiar. Even though she had not seen his face, she felt like she knew who he was. She had experienced that same uneasy, foreboding feeling he had produced recently, yet she could not place when. She could not recall where.

Her body felt limp beneath her. She dragged her face from her pillow, and rested her head on its side. Her eyes came into focus, and she was staring into darkness that engulfed her. She blinked and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, hoping to make out where she was. Last thing she remembered was lying in Bobby's bed, but as she lay there, the bed felt warm with her body heat. Too warm to be Bobby's bed. His body temperature would have countered hers. Which meant he was not in it. There was no coolness in the sheets or in the air near her. She ran her hand in the space next to her. It was empty. Had Bobby left? Would he not have woken her up and told her? She still could not see anything.

"Bobby? … John?" she called out. No one answered her. She lay still in the bed for another moment contemplating the possible explanations. He would not have just left her there. Maybe he had gone to the bathroom. She turned in the direction of the bathroom. There was no light on. No light shining from under any door. Maybe he was outside talking to John. No, they could do that in here. There was no reason they would have to hide outside. She wondered if this was a game, like the one she had thought Remy to pull…. Panic and trepidation rushed through her body as the idea of Bobby having disappeared as Remy had passed through her mind. If she would find out from the entire school that he had never existed. If she would never see him again.

"No." He was real. "No." He had to be real. Remy might be a figment of her imagination, but Bobby was _real_. He was not like Remy. He could not be fake. He was_ not _fake. She pushed herself off the bed hurriedly and tried to feel her way through the dark, stumbling to the door. Her hand fumbled for the light switch and flipped it on. As her eyes adjusted, her eyes grabbed onto the sight before. She looked left and right, trying desperately to find something, anything that belonged. She ran her eyes ran over the room once again as if it were possible she could have missed something, anything the first time.

The room was empty.

The dresser tops were bare, the nightstand top was bare, the floors were bare, the walls were bare. Out of the two beds in the room, only the bed she had just awoken from, its sheets ruffled and pushed back, had been touched. This was _not_ Bobby and John's room. She was in one of the unused room, left empty for future students. When had she left Bobby and John's room?

She turned and flung the door open and ran into the hallway. She look left and right, the hall was empty as well and the lights were dim. The lights were only dim during the night. She turned back around and looked into the room. Eleven twenty. She stared at the clock she had had overlooked earlier. It was eleven twenty pm. Eleven hours and twenty minutes had passed since she had lain down in Bobby's bed, and she had woken to find herself in another bed in another room. She turned around again.

Staring out into the hallway, she saw it. She saw the room number hanging on John and Bobby's door, and a nauseating feeling swam through her as she inferred what the number on this door was from unconsciously estimating the distance from their room. She had been here before. She had been in this room before, in this doorway, in that bed. If this was a joke, it was sick. She turned her head and looked over her shoulder.

Tears smoldered the backs of her eyes, the nauseating feeling rushed forth with a vengeance and it was confirmed. She was in Remy's room. She could handle a vague dream. But waking up in the middle of the night in his once room, not knowing how she had gotten there, tore away at her sanity. And whether Bobby was real or not was no longer on her mind. Down the hall, past John and Bobby's room, she ran to her room crying, wanting to scream in anger and in fear. She slammed the door, not turning to even glance at Jubilee who lay asleep on her bed as she ran into the bathroom, and spent the night bent over the toilet.

-----

She had not built up the nerve to go to either of their rooms the next day. So as she left her room, she kept her head turned so as not to look down the hall in their direction. She knew she would never step foot in that room again. She would not so much as look at the door. Out of sight, out of mind. Then maybe he would stop haunting her mind, she could stop dreaming about him and then she could stop thinking about him altogether. And then, she could get rid of the eerie feeling that lingered in the back of her mind. And although she would never understand it, she could accept that she had made him up. She did not really have a choice really, but to accept it.

In the midst of all that had happened last night, she had never checked on Bobby… to see if she had made him up, too. She knew she needed that confirmation for the sake of her sanity. She needed it desperately. But she was too afraid to do it now. She was afraid not that he would be gone, but that if he were gone, it would prove that she was crazy. She did not know how she would react. So, she would leave it to chance and hope that he would find her or that they would bump into each other.

A thought dashed across her mind as she turned left down the hall. What if this had nothing to do with her? What if this was not of her mind's doing? What if there was a chance she would disappear and no one remembered her, too? No. She rejected the notion quickly. It did not make sense. If it were true, she would not have been the only one freaking out over Remy's disappearance.

Funny how she had lost her grip on reality in one weekend. She placed her hand on the doorknob and hesitated for a second. After she had become friends with Remy, she had stopped coming here as often as she had used to. He had understood. He had encouraged it. But now Remy was gone, and even _he_ did not remember. She opened the door and stepped into the room slowly, searching for him. As she closed the door, she could hear the shower running. She was glad she had not come later and found him the way she had found John yesterday. She was almost one hundred percent sure that he would not have reacted in anyway similar to the way John had. She crossed the room and sat upon his bed, her back facing the bathroom door for obvious reasons, and lay down on her side, resting her head on one of his pillows. Logan was real and that gave her comfort. She turned her face into the pillow, surrounding herself in his scent. She remembered the times she had spent with Remy and the way his sheets had once smelled of him. They smelled like laundry detergent now.

Logan knew Rogue was in his room; he knew she was in his bed. It had been awhile since she had been here. He could not remember what it was that had changed everything, but she had started to spend her time on something else rather than with him. Maybe she had started hanging out with Jubilee and Kitty more. Whatever it was, he remembered he was relieved that she had started hanging around students more instead of limiting herself to following him around. He grabbed a towel and toweled his hair and chest and wrapped it around his waist before stepping out in the room. He already knew she was not okay; he could sense her grief and sorrow. He hoped she had not gotten into a fight with them or something. That type of thing was reasonably out of his territory. "Something wrong Marie?"

She sat up, startled. So absorbed in her thoughts, she had not noticed the shower had turned off. Involuntarily, she looked over her shoulder before realizing what she was doing. He gave her a raised eyebrow as a warning, and she turned around quickly, grateful that he had his towel on, "… yes."

She could hear him at his dresser, pulling out clothes to change into. She had decided she would tell him about what was happening. She did not want to keep this to herself, and she felt better telling him about it than the Professor or anyone else, "There was this guy, who went here… and I knew him really well and so did everyone else." Logan stopped her at the word 'guy'.

"This was about a guy?" he asked, somewhat tense. She answered 'kinda', her voice quiet and full of pain. That could only mean trouble—and for this guy, depending on what this was about. Had this bub broken her heart? Had he hurt her? Was he going to have to hurt him? "What'd he do?"

"It's not like that Logan. He didn't do anything," she answered, knowing he had already slipped into protective mode. Good, Logan thought, turning back to his clothes. He would not have to worry about hearing any crap about _protecting_, not _hurting_ the students from Chuck later. "He came after the attack. It's just that everyone knew who he was… and now they don't. No one knows who I'm talking about when I say his name… he disappeared. I thought that maybe I made him up, but…."

She still kept a thread of hope. Logan dropped the towel and pulled on his boxers, "People don't disappear outa nowhere, darling. We haven't had any new students since the attack. You're getting your dreams mixed up with reality. Either that or those aren't even your memories…. You touched John and Bobby. It's probably some kid from one of their memories who was here before you came."

"This wasn't a dream! He was here! I remember him!" she argued vehemently, turning around to face him angrily, feeling the emotion well up inside her. He had to believe her. She had all these memories of him and all the time they had spent together. She _remembered_ him. She could still _feel_ him.

"Turn _around, _Marie," he ordered. It was evident that she was getting worked up about this. He zipped up his pants. He knew she was not lying, but she was confused. They had not gotten any new students since the attack, and if they had, he would have known about them. Chuck would have told him as well as the other adults. And even if they did have a new student _and_ he knew about it _and_ if this person had disappeared, Chuck would know and have done something about it. He put on a shirt and closed the last drawer. He understood that this was bothering her. He did not know what to say. He did not know what to tell her.

She stayed silent, her back still facing him. She did not know what to believe anymore. It did not really matter. Remy was gone, and he was not going to come back. She did not even know what she wanted from Logan. She had just been hoping to stay with him for a while. She turned towards him to see he was heading for the door, "Logan… can I stay with you?"

"I gotta go see, Chuck," he told her, opening the door. He stopped in the doorway, turned around to look at her. He was familiar with the pain that was packaged with one's mutation. "…I'll ask him about it, Marie."

She nodded and watched from his bed as he left. The door closed, and she was by herself left to deal with it. The tears streamed down her face. She did not know what to do, what to think. She hated feeling this way, hated how she had started crying so much. This was not Rogue. She was not like this, but she could not stop. She lay back down on his bed and buried her face in his pillow, emerging herself in his scent again. She was lost and terrified and alone. She tried forgetting about Remy, but he would not leave her memory. He was all she could think of. A sob escaped her throat and shook her body… she still remembered his scent.

-----

His hand on the doorknob, he was still wondering how he had ended up at Logan's room. Not a place he would usually visit, seeing as he was not exactly _chummy_ with 'The Wolverine'. Definitely not the first place he had planned to search, but he was here, and somehow he knew she would be, too. He shook off the hesitation and the uneasy feeling that lingered in the back of his mind and opened the door. They needed to talk about everything that had happened yesterday, even if he had to check Logan's room. The way she ran off from him outside without a reason, the way she locked him out of his own room and the way she had not spoken to him all day. He wanted to know where all this had come from, why she was angry with him.

She heard the door open and sat up quickly, throwing her legs over the side of the bed, thinking that Logan had come back and found her crying on his bed. She turned to meet his eyes only to discover John watching her as he closed the door behind him. She closed her eyes and turned away. She had forgotten about him and everything that had happened yesterday. Well, she had not _cared_ with everything that had been going on. She knew what he wanted, and she knew it would be about yesterday.

She fell back onto her side with a sigh and pulled her legs back onto the bed, curled beneath her. Fine, she would talk to him and get it over with because she had a feeling that now was as good as it was going to get today. She eyed him almost warily as he approached her and sat on the bed in the space between her legs and arms.

"What's wrong, Rogue?" He was looking down, observing her. The thought of how he knew to look for her in Logan's room brushed aside by an unseen hand as if he had never had it. This was not what he had expected really, to find her like this, crying. She looked tired, not physically, but emotionally. He recognized the look on her face. Had sported it himself before. Jaded, on the brink of numbness, not caring anymore. He knew this was not just about him. This had not started between the two of them yesterday outside in the backyard. Even without knowing the reason, he understood, but it angered him that she had shut him out.

"Where's Bobby?" she asked, not really caring, just wanting to know if he still existed without asking with those exact words. The thought of how he knew to look for her in Logan's room brushed aside by an unseen hand as if she had never had it. She studied him, waiting for her answer. He was staring right back at her, almost defiantly.

"Downstairs," he answered, feeling she was trying to change the subject. She was going to let him in. He was not going to let this grow into a rift between them. "You gonna answer me?"

"…I don't know," she answered softly. The eye contact between them had yet to be broken, and she could tell by the way it felt like he was looking into her mind that she was going to have to tell him. This was why she had gone to Bobby yesterday. Not that he was clueless when it came to her problems, but because he knew that knowing the problem was not necessary in helping her, while John was not satiated until he could find out what the problem was and fix or eliminate it. "… Have you ever had a dream that... Did you ever think something was real... and it wasn't?"

"What if... it was a person?" she asked after he had nodded. This was where she expected a reaction similar to Logan's. Here was where she expected to lose him. She was watching him closely just as she had been when she had asked him about Remy, and now the same emotions ran through her, as well.

John was not quite getting what she was trying to say. He could see the anxiousness on her face. Was she talking about someone who was fake personality-wise? Someone who pretended to be someone they were not? Yeah, he knew and hated the type exactly. He raised an eyebrow curiously, playfully. " A person… like a robot?"

She averted her eyes from his to the floor, her brows furrowed as she tried to think of a better way to explain. Remy, a robot? Was that a reasonable explanation? She could not question whether it was possible that A.I. was that advanced, not when she lived with the X-Men, not after hearing the more-than-rumors about the technology they possessed. But would they not have known if Remy was a robot? No doubt, the Professor had scanned Remy's mind when Remy had first arrived. Something like that would be detectable. The thought was disturbing—the possibility that she had grown so close to a machine; it had the potential to make her sick.

"You're.... a robot?" he asked when she did not answer him, both eyebrows raised now in amusement and a small smirk growing on his face. She turned towards him, her expression a mixture of confusion, shock and annoyance, and seeing his smile, hit him before rolling her eyes and telling him to shut up. He knew she had been serious before, but he saw the smile she was trying to hide now, and he prided in the fact that he had caused it.

"...Just a person, a mutant, like you and me. Remember when I asked you about Remy yesterday?" She was watching him now, regretting that she had ever shut him out, wishing she had gone to him in the first place. He nodded, remembering how she had run away from him afterwards as well. "John, do you think I'm crazy?"

"Not any more than usual…." His expression got serious. "What's wrong, Rogue?"

"What if I told you that Remy's real, but that..." she hesitated again, afraid, "I'm the only one that remembers him?"

He could feel what she was feeling; he saw the pain in her expression, the fear of his rejection, and he understood. She was going out on a limb, telling him this. Afraid that he would think her crazy, or think that this had something to do with the barrage of thoughts in her mind that did not belong to her. But he knew her or at least he thought he did and, "If you think he's real... then he's real."

She looked up at him, startled at his answer, by his acceptance, and saw the genuine concern in his eyes, saw that he was not joking or playing around with her. It was not a solution—there was not one really—, but it was what she needed. And she felt overwhelmed with guilt for not thinking he would understand and locking him out of his room yesterday when so far he had been the only one who had understood.

"…Whatever it is that's happening, I'm here. Now."

She pushed herself up and lifted her arms around his neck, and he met her in an embrace, wrapping his arms around her back. Her face buried in his shoulder, she could smell him. Smell how real he was. Feel the life in his body. Feel his heartbeat, the movement of his chest as he breathed. She whispered into his collarbone, "I'm sorry, John… for yesterday."

"Forgiven," he murmured. Pulling away to look in his eyes and biting her lower lip, she let her hand slide from the side of his face, into his hair. She hoped he would never disappear like Remy had. She hoped he made her forget Remy. Forget that she had ever made him up. Forget that any of this had happened. Staring into his eyes, she knew that he could. She wanted him, needed him really. She clenched her hands in his hair softly and lightly tugged his head closer to her, her mouth seeking his.

"Rogue, wait," John said when he realized she was not pulling him in for just another hug. He was not sure if this was her acting on her desperation or maybe him imagining things. He did not want to take advantage of her and have her regret this later, be angry with him and not talk to him again because then he would feel like crap and it would be his fault that he was in the doghouse. No, he did not want to mess things up again. He tried pulling away and felt her grip in his hair tighten.

"I won't," she murmured, his thoughts a whisper in her mind. She quieted him, pushing her mouth to his. And ignoring everything his mind was telling him and all the reason he had and not even resisting, he kissed her back, impulsively and hungrily. He knew he'd be lying if he told himself that he did not want to, but he also knew they could both be hurt because of this kiss, and he did not care because she had just giving him a pleading whimper. He had managed to repress all the old feelings he had had for her, and now she was stirring them up. He did not want to have to push them down again, but he pulled her closer anyway.

She remembered when she had overheard John and Bobby talking about her. She remembered her thoughts when Bobby had suggested she liked John and mentally smiled. Now her hands were clenched in his hair, his arms were wrapped around her, and her mouth was open to his. So much for incestuous. Taking one hand from his hair, she grabbed his shirt at the shoulder and pulled as she leaned back. He obeyed, releasing her from his embrace and bringing his legs onto the bed on either side of her, not caring that it had only taken a moment for him to give in to her and his desires, and not caring that this was like something from a Life™ movie he would hear Jubilee or Kitty ranting about.

"_Rogue_." Intoxicated in the feeling of each other, the voice was ignored. "_John_."

John lifted his head, stopping the kiss. Unless Rogue had learned to do imitations during kissing, he had just heard Logan's voice call out his name. John closed his eyes and cursed at his stupidity before hastily getting off of Rogue and the bed completely. He had known he was going to end up screwed because of this. Confused, Rogue tried to stop him until she saw Logan over his shoulder leaning against the doorway. She jumped off his bed, embarrassed, panicking. She had just been caught kissing John in Logan's bed. She glanced at John, who looked like he knew he was screwed. Logan was going to kill him.

"Logan, uh, we weren't… Did you forget something?" Logan raised an eyebrow. She could tell that he was not amused. It was scary. She turned to John, grabbed his arm and pulled him after her towards the door where Logan still stood. John hesitated for a moment, thinking that walking towards Logan might not be the best thing for him to do right now and how if the circumstances, he would be pissed at Logan for interrupting. But the circumstances were not different, and he probably would not make it past Logan with out getting skewered.

"Sorry, Logan." She squeezed past Logan and dragged John behind her. Logan turned his head, watching as they squeezed past him, giving John a warning look that pierced through him. "It won't happen again… ever." And he was sure of that because he would never be stepping foot in Logan's room again, even if Rogue's mouth were attached to his. He managed to get it out sounding cool and calm. He only hoped it would somehow help keep him from harm. Logan turned towards him and grabbed his free arm. John tensed involuntarily, but tried to keep the calm semblance. Rogue stopped, terrified.

"No. It won't." He released John's arm and proceeded to walk into his room to inspect the bed, leaving Rogue to yank John from his frozen position away from the scene of crime.

-----

Rogue collapsed face first on John's bed. She did know whether she was supposed to feel embarrassed or afraid, but she had them both covered. She wondered if Logan would want to talk to her later. She hoped he did not think that she and John were going to go any further than kissing. Maybe he was laughing it off right now. She doubted it. He was probably pissed at the both of them for violating his bed and probably his trust.

"I can't believe you're not dead, John." How he had gotten away without a scratch, and she without some sort of Logan's version of a lecture was very strange. They had been lucky not to get in trouble for making out in his bed. She did not understand it. It made no sense, actually. He had been so calm… _too_ calm. His reaction had been nothing more than a slap on the hand… and Logan did not slap. She wondered if John had noticed.

John had managed to recover during the trip to his room. He lay next to Rogue on the bed on his back, on leg hanging over the edge so he'd be ready to jump away from Rogue as soon as Logan showed any signs of wanting to knock the door down. He doubted it would happen, but he would be ready anyway. Technically this was his room and he should be able to do whatever he wanted, but he was not stupid enough to believe that. He was expecting some kind of punishment from Logan for even touching Rogue. Why Logan had not given him any before and let them off so easily did not really matter to him. It had not been the reaction he had expected, and that had been a good thing. He turned his head and looked at Rogue. He felt stupid and foolish about what had happened and he was expecting to face the consequences of his carelessness and idiocy now. He wished he had just listened to his reason because she probably regretting it now. "Rogue?"

She lifted her head from his pillow and moving closer, rested it on his shoulder. Thinking about everything that had just happened, she was glad he had found her. Glad that she had found her tourniquet. She looked up at him, a hesitant smile on her lips. "Does this mean you're my boyfriend, Johnny?"

One movement, one question, and she had just wiped away his worries. He smiled back.

II. Haunted


	4. III Tourniquet

A/N: Thanks a bunch to Bunny Angel, MiraiXenia and Crazy4horses for the help. I apologize in advance for the cheese and if your teeth hurt from the sap after reading this. Be patient about Remy. At least until the next chapter. Wink wink. Thanks for the reviews.

III. Tourniquet

_She did not need him. She had John._

* * *

One hand under her chin, John shifted onto his side and brought her mouth to his. Smiling into the kiss, Rogue was enjoying her answer. She opened her mouth, moved closer until her body was pressed against his and draped an arm over his side. Both legs on the bed now and all of his attention on Rogue, John let Logan slip from his mind. His thoughts of being skewered faded away, replaced by thoughts of Rogue. Thoughts Logan would skewer him for having.

John broke the kiss, wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer, and she ducked her head beneath his, placing it against the top of his chest and encased in his embrace, closed her eyes and breathed him in. It seemed like everything had happened so fast with John and Remy. Yesterday she had been avoiding John, and now twenty minutes after talking to him, she was his girlfriend. She knew that was kind of fast, but they had been friends for so long before and that had to make some kind of difference. She did not question her feelings for John. They had always been there, but when nothing had happened between her and John but friendship and when Remy had… appeared, she had pushed them aside.

Remy had only 'disappeared' yesterday, or rather she had found out he had never really existed and that she had fabricated him in her mind somehow. He had been close to a best friend and almost more for close to a month. She remembered how they had spent so much time together; now there would be no time together, no late nights. Clenching her eyes tight, Rogue tried to will the tears away. There would be no more crying for him. He was not real. He was to be forgotten. Replaced with John who had always been there before. Rogue pulled herself closer to John, holding tightly to him, and pushed one leg between his.

John hoped she was comfortable because he _definitely_ was. Her breath brushed softly against his neck, and he could tell by the slow pace that she was drifting or trying to sleep. He wondered if she had done that on purpose, shoved her leg between his and then decided to go to sleep, and if she knew what it was doing to him. Lightly running his fingers up and down her back, he thought about how he had just hooked-up with one of his best friends. Everything that had happened was a blur. Rogue with tears in her eyes, pouring her heart out to him, hugging him and then kissing him, Logan catching them in his bed and now this. He only hoped that she did not change her mind about him after thinking about it because he really did not know what he would do, but he did not want to think about that, so he closed his eyes and tried not to.

When the door opened fifteen minutes later, John looked up lazily and half asleep to see that Bobby walk through. He had not even had time to panic at the thought of it being Logan, and even if it had been, he would have had to pry him from the spot he was in now. He mumbled a greeting, which was more of less of a grunt, and dropped his head back on the pillow above Rogue's. Rogue had been either sleeping or too tired to notice Bobby because she had not moved. Bobby cast them a glance and walked in, thinking nothing more of their tangled position than that they were restive sleepers. He approached the two of them quietly, trying not to disturb them, a smirk on his face, thinking of how he would rib them about their intimate position later when they woke up. Rogue was encased in John's embrace, they're arms wrapped tightly around each other, her leg pushed between his, his head atop hers.

Rogue shifted in John's arms, bringing her head from beneath his. Laughing, Bobby turned to go to his own bed when John moved again, catching his attention. Raising his hand to her chin, John lifted her head and brought his lips to brush softly across hers. Rogue stirred and tightened her grip on him and Bobby's brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what John was doing and stared, wondering what kind of dream _he_ was having. Shaking his head, he turned to walk towards his bed again, thinking of how he would love to tell them about that one, because he was not about to pry them apart when Rogue kissed John back, pushing her mouth to his. Bobby froze in his step and when he saw Rogue's mouthpart and John's tongue tease the corners of her mouth, his eyes popped open. John raised his head, kissed Rogue on the forehead and laid his head back above her hers. Rogue buried her face in his neck. Bobby stood there for what seemed like ten minutes to him, eyes wide, staring.

"What's going on?!" Bobby demanded, his voice filled with shock rather than anger. He knew they were all close, but he had never kissed Rogue that way. Hell, he had never even held her that way. That had been more than an unconscious action on John's part and Rogue's because she definitely was not just happening to be having the same exact dream.

Rogue opened her eyes as she quickly pushed herself up onto her arms to find that Bobby stood next to the bed, watching them in shock. She opened her mouth to explain when she realized it _really _was not necessary. "Bobby, er…"

"We're dating," John proclaimed and it was that simple. He pulled at Rogue. Rogue elbowed away John's arm, still watching Bobby. She had forgotten about him completely, including what he would think and how they should tell him. Guess John had it covered.

"That's okay with you, right?" John asked. Not that it should not be because if it were, he and Bobby would have to deal with that later.

"… Uh… Yeah, it's fine. Just… when did this happen?" Bobby was so lost. And shocked. He guessed he was okay with it. Just yesterday, he had suggested to John that maybe Rogue liked him, but he had not expected this. It had been less than a full 24 hours. They could not have been together all along, otherwise that would mean they had lied to him, and that did not seem likely.

"Today," Rogue answered as she relaxed next John again. John draped his arm over Rogue's stomach and settled his face in her hair, satisfied at how easy that had been. Bobby backed up until he felt his bed at his knees and sat, falling backwards onto his back. Yeah, he guessed he was okay with it. They had not been lying. It still came from nowhere to him. It was kind of weird though seeing them like that together, and he was probably going to have to brush his teeth before they deteriorated from the sappiness it looked like John and Rogue's would be emitting. At least he did not have to worry about who they were daring or _for_ whom they were dating rather since they had been friends before and knew what they were getting into with each other.

Even though it was kind of incestuous, like him dating Rogue or John or... uh, something like that.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Bobby had already left on account of aching teeth from the sap John and Rogue were emitting and they had decided that it was highly unlikely that Logan was planning some kind of delayed punishment. Rogue twirled Logan's dog tags around her finger, contemplating how much things would change between her and John and if they really would aside from the obvious. The kisses, hugs and everything like that she could take, she wanted. But there was that openness, bluntness and closeness that came with friendship that she did not want to lose. She snuck a side-glance at him. She had a feeling though that would not happen, not with John.

"Want to go out? There's this restaurant called Ragin' Cajun-" Rogue's head snapped towards John, as his words brought unyielding thoughts of Remy flooding into her mind. She shook her head rapidly, almost childishly, trying to shake the thoughts clear from her mind, and John, watching her, took the movement as a diffident response. "-good food… Okay. We can still avoid Logan from here."

John could not really figure out what she was thinking. She was staring at the ceiling, not talking to him, and he knew he was being stupid but he could not get rid of the nagging thought that Rogue would suddenly realize that a relationship with him was not what she wanted after all and dump him. He could not remember feeling this way since his first girlfriend here at the mansion, but even then, he had known the chances of her dumping him were slim. He turned towards her just in time to catch her tags as they slipped from her finger and flew through midair. Rogue held her hand out, waiting for him to hand them to her, but he held them up, inspecting them. Logan's dog tags.

"Give 'em please." He looked at the shiny plates. Last time he remembered, she had given them back to Logan during the attack in the car. He furrowed his brows, trying to remember why he had never noticed her wearing them when he had just talked to her yesterday outside, and they were usually kind of hard to miss, hanging there, staring him in the face and reminding him of the looming threat of Logan. Maybe she had tucked them in her shirt. Rogue grabbed for them.

"When did he give 'em back?" John asked inquisitively, dodging Rogue's hand just in case she refused to talk about it after he gave it back, which was likely. He turned and looked at her, expecting an answer.

"Give it back." Rogue narrowed her eyes warningly, her hand stretched out for the tags. She did not want to play any games. She wanted _her_ tags back.

"When?" John repeated, trying to ignore how much her glare reminded him of Logan's, knowing the similarity was probably more than coincidence since part of Logan was still in her head. He raised an eyebrow curiously.

"After the attack. John." Logan had given them to her to keep. They were hers now. She snatched for them again, only to have John dodge her hand again. He was not being very perceptive to the fact that she was being serious. She liked John, but he was pushing it right now.

"But when exac-?" John started, and suddenly he was yelling out in pain and surprise because Rogue had just socked him in the shoulder forcefully and angrily, all her patience gone. She hated it when people took her tags—even though no one else had ever dared to—, and he was not an exception. Rogue had hit him before, but never so hard. At least not on purpose. She snatched for them again, and he jumped towards the edge of the bed away from her, thinking she was about to hit him again and knowing he would rather she did not. And Rogue was thinking she was going to kill him _now_ when she grabbed the front of his shirt with both her hands and jumped on him, her weight pushing him off balance and off the side of the bed onto his back. She landed hard on her side next to him.

"Ow, here, damn it!" John held the tags out at her. She snatched them back, ignoring the pain in her arm and hip. John lay there, waiting for the pain to subside and wondering what was wrong with Rogue and why she had gotten so angry when she knew he was going to give them back. If he had known she was going to wrestle him to ground, he would have given them back to her immediately… well depending on the situation.

"... Thanks," she responded softly. She was not even sure why she wanted the tags so badly for anyway. Maybe because they reminded her of Logan. Maybe because to her they represented stability. She had just hated the fact that she had had no control over something so important to her. She wondered if he was thinking about how much she had changed in the past three months or if he was angry or if she was pushing him away when she needed him the most.

"Welcome," John replied. Tears sprung to her eyes when she heard his voice free of anger or annoyance. Rogue moved her head to rest atop John's chest, and John sighed and rested his hand on her back, wondering how she had managed to get him so whipped so fast. She closed her eyes and brought her hand to cover her face, suddenly wanting to cry from all the emotions in her head rushing at her. She felt stupid, angry and afraid. Remy's disappearance was still fresh on her mind, eating away at her sanity. She just did not want to lose anything or anyone else.

* * *

_Her trembling legs carried her down the hall. John and Bobby had been right next to her, but she had lost them in the blinding light, exploding glass and flying debris. She did not understand how this could be happening so suddenly and without any warning. And now the picture she had once held of Xavier's infallible sanctuary lay shattered among the shards of glass sprinkled on the floor. She turned down corridors where the screaming and yelling sounded louder, trying to follow the sound of the kids in the distance._

_"Rogue!" Bobby's voice came from the other direction. She stopped quickly and turned to run towards his voice. Turning a corner, she was suddenly blinded by a light. Raising her hands to shield her eyes, she squinted into the glare ahead of her. And then, there was a sharp sting near her ribs. She could feel her body struggling to use the remnants of the healing factor she had imprinted from Logan as she stared into the light barely able to make out the silhouette of the soldier standing before her lowering the gun in his hand. Looking down beneath her arm quickly, she ran a hand over the spot. And as the faint sound of metal striking the floor rang through the air, she saw three metal darts illuminated in the light bounce off the floor. Then there was nothing._

Rogue woke with her breath caught in her throat and her heart pounding in her chest. Instinctively her hand flew to her stomach. Her breath came in gasps as she ran her hand over the spot the wound had been in the dream. There was nothing there. She was fine. She had been having pieces of what she assumed to be the same nightmare for the past week. The night of the attack, except for escaping with Logan, John and Bobby, she had been captured. It was disturbing, but at least Remy had not made an appearance yet, voice or otherwise.

Rogue peered into the dark hoping she was not in his empty room this time, not that she could really see anything. She could hear breathing though, right next to her, and when she moved her arm, she hit something warm. A person. Immediately, her breath started to quicken as she started to panic. She could tell she was fully clothed and lying on her back atop a bed, but she could not remember when or how she had gotten there. She could have fallen asleep next to Jubilee or for all she knew, there could be some stranger in her bed.

Her thoughts flew to Remy and the possibilities that he was next to her. The possibility that he had come back to her. She thought about getting out of bed and stumbling for the light again, but she feared what she might see. She could also scream, but that was too craven, and she decided for something subtler. Pushing out her elbow, she nudged the person lying next to her. She got no response, not even a quickening of breathing. She was thinking she should be more wary about how she woke up the person next to her since she could not remember where she had fallen asleep. Especially considering the last time she woke up not knowing where she was. She could end up having woken up a pissed off Logan or… or the Professor. And she would explain it how? Bad case of sleepwalking?

She stretched her hand out and touched the person next to her and there was hair in her hand. That took the Professor out of the mix and Logan judging by the size of the person and from what she could tell, it probably was a boy. She took her hand away, imagining how awkward it would be if the person should wake up to find her groping him. She was praying this had better be John or Bobby.

"John? Bobby?" She nudged, and he stirred slightly. She sat up and began to shake the person next to her. If the worst happened, she could always use her mutation. She got a groan, some mumbling, a curse and then:

"What? Not _now_, Bobby…" John. She was lying next to John, and even though she did not remember how and when, it made sense. She chided herself for having even thought about Remy. She did not need him. She had John. His voice was muffled and angry as he stirred and tried not to wake. Relieved, she lay back down onto her stomach, and nestled closer, taking his arm and draping it over her back. John let out a long sigh before he tightened his arm around her and tucked his head beneath her chin, tiredly whispering her name into her collarbone as he slipped back into a sleep he had not fully left. Pushing her dream and Remy to the back of her mind, Rogue closed her eyes and attempted to fall back to sleep. She still did not remember how she had gotten there. She did not care.

III. Tourniquet


	5. Chapter 5

04:47

Okay, so after 7 years this story is done… Boredom can get things done.

Actually, after re-reading this story a few years ago on Christmas break, I decided it was crap and started to rewrite it. The next Christmas break, I added some more, etc. I'm on Christmas break… the story got finished.

I uploaded it under the title « Lethe ». Same premises, different vision, better writing.

Here's the first part:

It was still raining when Rogue returned to the mansion.

She licked the water from her lips as she turned to close the door as quietly as she could. She watched through the window as the rain raged on outside on the mansion grounds.

"Whatch y' doin', petite?" Rogue spun back around to the voice that had called her out.

"What're you doing, Remy?" She was a little confused at why he seemed to have been waiting for her. He almost looked like typical Remy, leaning against the wall. All he needed was the folded arms and the grin. He wasn't grinning now, and too many shadows draped his face for her to see his true expression.

"Remy jus' ask y' dat," he responded. Her countenance contorted with more confusion. She wiped her face with both hands, removing the water threatening to drip into her eyes.

"What?" She dropped her arms beside her. He'd stood from the wall, and his face had become more visible. His arms were now folded over his chest. She stared at him, waiting for his response. She was completely aware that the conversation was going nowhere. Remy stared back.

"Y' look like y' need somet'in' warm," he observed. "Remy get y' some tea."

He dropped his arms, turned around and walked away, clearly expecting her to follow. Rogue waited until she could no longer see him and then smiled. She was relieved he hadn't asked any more questions. Conversation successfully avoided. She didn't really want to tell him how she'd gone traipsing in the woods. It hadn't made much sense really. She'd been bored and gotten the idea that maybe it was something Logan would do to release energy. Then realized how stupid it was to be running around in the woods at night, screaming and hitting things. It had been kind of beautiful though, looking up through the treetops as the rain filtered through. That was what she had ended up doing after bruising her knuckles on a pine.

She wondered why he'd been up. If he'd known she'd left and had been waiting for her. A shiver brought her out of her thoughts, and she shook herself in an attempt to fling off some of the water. Then she stopped herself, realizing she was done with the whole feral act.

Rogue wandered to the kitchen. Remy was there, standing at the island counter and stirring a spoon in a cup. Her tea, she presumed. It was a weird sight to see, Remy stirring tea. She proceeded to take a seat on the other side. He continued to stir the spoon, not looking up at her. She watched his hands. He slid the cup towards her and looked up at her. She looked him in the eye. He didn't say anything.

"Thanks," she said, taking the cup and averting her eyes to look down into it. Her nose itched and she was cold. Bad signs for a person who'd just rolled around outside in the rain. Another reason not to do it again. She lowered her face readily towards the raising warmth. Hopefully, she wouldn't catch a cold.

"Y' should hurry an' take dem clothes off b'fore y' get sick," he suggested. She stared at him again. He'd gone a long time without grinning. It was a little disconcerting.

He must have seen the apprehension on her face because he smirked a little then. Rogue shivered, her wet clothes sucking the heat from her body, and grinned back, taking a sip from her cup. She was soaking wet and very pleased.


End file.
